


Bet My Life

by Aerys_Krystie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Moving On, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:40:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28475556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerys_Krystie/pseuds/Aerys_Krystie
Summary: Jackson returns to Beacon Hills three years later. Derek knows what happened, but he doesn't know if he can help or if he'll make things worse.
Relationships: Allison Argent/Isaac Lahey, Derek Hale/Jackson Whittemore
Comments: 4
Kudos: 15





	Bet My Life

**~Bet My Life~**

**By:** Aerys Krystie.

**Theme:** AU. Doesn’t follow the show at all after Season 2.

**Plot:** Jackson returns to Beacon Hills after three years. Derek knows what happened, but he doesn't know if he can help or make things worse.

**Warnings:** Slash, language, mentions of abuse, OOC and OCs.

**Disclaimer:** Everything of and referring to _Teen Wolf_ is not mine. This is a fan-made, non-profit story. Please support the official release.

* * *

The airport stunk. That was the only way Scott could describe it. Every emotion possible lingered in the air, hearts thumped like machine guns or cannons and the stench of tears, either from joy or sorrow, was basically etched into the floors. He hadn’t been the one to drop Jackson off, three years ago, but he was regretting picking him up.

The flight from London had landed ten minutes ago and Scott assumed that Jackson was collecting his checked luggage. If it was anything like when he left, there would be at least nine suitcases. Lydia had been the one to drop him off at the airport that day and had bitched about carrying one of his suitcases, while he took the other eight. Scott had simply laughed when she told the story.

His eyes scanned the crowds, trying to locate Jackson. Scott figured he could smell the arrogance of the beta, but that was coming off in spades on others. Each one he sniffed out wasn’t Jackson. Then he caught the scent of anxiety, which wasn’t uncommon. A lot of people had a fear of flying, but that one was coming off the plane and not towards it.

Turning, Scott grinned when he saw Jackson. As usual, Jackson was dressed smartly. The designer jeans hugged every curve and the shirt showed just enough to prove that there was something beneath. The blue eyes of Jackson were what had Scott’s smile freezing. There were dark circles on the pallid skin and the eyes didn’t have any kind of luster to them.

Upon seeing him, recognition flickered through them and he grabbed his suitcase. Scott met him halfway, wanting to pull the familiar face into a tight hug. Jackson tensed in the hug and Scott was certain he stopped breathing. He got the message. No touching. He could understand. Jackson wasn’t returning to Beacon Hills of three years ago, where Derek Hale was the alpha.

“’Allo, ’allo,” Scott said with the worst possible British accent he could muster.

Jackson forced a smile. “I’m going to have to deal with that all day, aren’t I?” he asked softly, walking half a step behind Scott as they left the airport and into the kind of fresh air of the outside.

Scott chuckled. “Probably a lot from Stiles. I think he was the most excited to have you return. It was…actually a little creepy.” He frowning, thinking on how Stiles had straightened up Derek’s loft. There were fresh flowers placed around, making sure the scent was gentle. He had washed the windows, letting in more natural light. “Definitely creepy.”

“We kept in touch while I was abroad,” Jackson said with a shrug. “He helped out the pack I was with a lot.”

“Oh, I know that. He practically screamed you were coming home. I think he has a lot of questions about what you faced while in England.” Scott unlocked his Mustang and slipped in, frowning when Jackson stood out there. Turning on the car, he rolled down the passenger window. “Get in.”

Jackson put his suitcase in the backseat and slipped in after it. Scott turned in his seat and stared at Jackson, expecting him to be in the passenger seat. Scott shrugged as Jackson stared down at his lap blankly and assumed it was some strange quirk he picked up from England.

The drive back to Beacon Hills took a few hours and they stopped at a diner along the way. Scott asked Jackson what he wanted and Jackson just shrugged back at him. He ordered cheeseburgers, fries and shakes. “How was England?”

“Foggy and wet,” Jackson responded, eyes on the table.

Scott stared at Jackson and finally saw something that should have grabbed his attention the first time. In Jackson’s left lobe was an earring. It was a gold stud with an aquamarine gem in it. “Did you have fun?”

Jackson tensed and Scott frowned. He was expecting Jackson to gloat about all he did in England, how they managed to appease a dullahan and kill a pixie. Instead of a verbal answer, Jackson just nodded and even then Scott got the feeling that was a lie.

Their food was placed in front of them and Scott watched as Jackson just stared at it, as though it wasn’t really there. “Eat it before it gets cold,” Scott said.

Jackson pushed the plate towards Scott. “I’m not hungry,” he said.

“What’s wrong?” Scott asked as he caught the scent of Jackson’s fear.

“Just tired,” Jackson answered.

Either Jackson got a lot better at lying or Scott was missing something. He pushed the plate back to Jackson, who just shook his head. “At least try the shake,” he encouraged and Jackson shook his head. “What’s wrong?”

“Just tired,” Jackson repeated.

Scott sat back, staring at Jackson. When he looked closely, he could see that he was exhausted and he seemed slimmer than he remembered. “I’m not eating until you do, Jackson,” he said and crossed his arms.

_Did he just…flinch?_ Scott watched as Jackson ate a fry and that was it. Something was definitely wrong and Scott didn’t like it. He pulled his phone out and sent a message to Stiles, telling him not to touch Jackson when they got back. That was if Jackson even wanted to meet the new pack.

“Are you happy to be home?” Scott asked as he ate the fries.

“Yes,” Jackson answered quietly, glancing to his left.

Scott checked his phone when it chimed, Stiles wanting to know why. _I don’t think he’s up for it, man. Just give him time to settle in._ He hit the send button and locked the screen. Jackson still had his head bowed, not even caring that Scott was texting someone.

“I’m an alpha now,” Scott said and Jackson nodded.

“I know. Congratulations. I’m sure you’re a great alpha.”

There was no lie in those words. At least not one that Scott could detect. He wasn’t sure how Jackson would react to him being an alpha, considering how he reacted to the discovery of werewolves. “We’ve got nice weather today.”

“Yes, we do.”

Scott sat back, staring at Jackson. “Okay, Jackson. What the hell, man?”

“I’m sorry, I’m tired.”

Again, Scott was certain he saw a flinch. With his head lowered, he couldn’t see much of Jackson’s face. He knew enough to know Jackson was keeping his eye on the exit, as though he might have to run for it at any second. As much as he wanted to interrogate Jackson, he decided it would be best if Stiles did. And when did Jackson Whittemore of all people _apologize_ for something?

“I think we should get back home, then,” Scott said with a smile and Jackson nodded, pulling out his wallet. He went to pay, but realized he still had British pounds. “I got it, man. Don’t worry about it.”

Scott dropped his cash onto the table and froze when he caught something he was almost certain Jackson couldn’t feel. Shame. He wasn’t going to question it, as it disappeared almost as soon as he caught it. He stood up and slipped out of the booth, Jackson falling a step behind this time.

At the car, Scott had to tell Jackson to get in again. And again, he slipped into the backseat and kept his eyes down. Scott didn’t understand it, but it was almost as though Jackson was terrified to offend him by looking at him. If anyone could get him to loosen up, it would be Stiles.

\--

As they pulled up to the loft, Scott received the message saying that all of them had been told not to touch Jackson. He killed the engine and smiled over his shoulder. “We’re home,” he said and opened the door.

Just before he got out, he froze again and turned in the seat, staring at Jackson. The beta sat in the backseat, trembling, covered in fear and sorrow. Scott didn’t know what to do, as Jackson didn’t want to be touched. He couldn’t offer any comfort as the alpha, as Jackson hadn’t accepted him.

Looking out the windshield, Scott found that Derek was standing at the window, gazing down at them. If Jackson had a problem with him, he certainly wouldn’t want to see Derek. He mouthed _Stiles_ to Derek, who vanished from the window. A few minutes later, Stiles was running to the car. He opened the door beside Jackson and the change was almost instant.

The fear and sorrow disappeared, but Jackson didn’t move. Scott got out and let them talk, going up to the loft. He joined Derek at the window. Derek looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “I…couldn’t explain it if I tried,” he said and shook his head.

Liam joined them, staring down. “Is that Jackson?”

“Jackson?” Isaac asked, bolting from the sofa and standing at the window.

Isaac turned to run down, clearly forgetting about Stiles’ warning. Derek caught his shoulder and shook his head. The werewolves stared out the window, Allison coming to see what all the fuss was about. Knowing that they needed to give them some privacy, the werewolves went back to the sofa. All of them actively ignored every word spoken outside, knowing that Jackson clearly didn’t trust them. As long as he spoke to someone, Scott was happy.

Three hours later, Liam and Isaac were getting antsy. They went to the window, staring down at the car. “Stiles managed to get him out,” Isaac said, his eyes lighting up for a moment. “That’s not Jackson.”

Derek joined him and stared down. His eyes widened and he looked over his shoulder. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Scott answered honestly. He really had no idea. Jackson had seemed reserved since the airport. There wasn’t even happiness in his eyes when he saw Scott. It was simply recognition.

“You sure it’s not Jackson?” Liam asked, the only one in the room to have not met him.

“That’s not Jackson,” Isaac said and held Allison’s hand.

“That’s a shell of him,” Derek explained and turned away. His eyes blazed blue and he sighed. “I’ve seen that before. _No one_ goes near him until he reaches out.”

Scott frowned as Derek left the loft and went downstairs. He went to the window, watching as Derek kept his distance from the pair. He couldn’t remember the last time anger took over Derek like that.

“Take him somewhere else,” Derek said to Stiles, who stared at him for a long while, but eventually nodded. “Jackson.” That was definitely a flinch. “Don’t force yourself. You take your time and heal.”

“You can crash at mine, if you like,” Stiles offered and tenderly pulled Jackson over to his car.

Derek entered the loft again and Scott turned to him, wanting answers. Derek simply shook his head. “It isn’t my place. Jackson will tell you…if he ever can.”

Allison spun around, staring at Derek. Horror, fear, anger and sorrow came from her like a blanket. “No,” she said and Derek nodded. “Oh my god.” She turned around, tears falling from her eyes.

Scott frowned, his mind immediately going to Jackson murdering someone while he was in England. That would explain Allison’s reaction and Derek’s anger. It would certainly explain Jackson’s sudden meek demeanor. He just hoped Jackson trusted them enough with that information.

* * *

Four months later, Derek woke up as someone pounded on the loft door. He groaned and checked the time. It was barely nine in the morning, but he managed to get a couple hours of sleep. He got up and stretched, catching Stiles’ scent. Pulling open the door, he found Stiles staring at him, eyes resolute.

“He wants to see you.”

Derek frowned and nodded, going back to his bedroom. He pulled on a shirt, jacket and his boots, following Stiles in his car. He pulled up in front of the Stilinski house and stared at it, heart hammering in his chest. Jackson hadn’t wanted to see any of them since he arrived in Beacon Hills.

Scott had tried asking Derek what happened, wanting to know if Jackson had taken a life. Derek couldn’t say for certain if Jackson had, but he had only ever seen that look on someone’s face once before. If he was being completely honest, Derek would have preferred if Jackson had murdered someone.

Getting out his car, Derek followed Stiles into the kitchen. Jackson was standing by the counter, ready to run if anything happened. Derek froze as the shame and fear hit him. He wrinkled his nose and tried to ignore it as much as possible. Jackson’s heartrate had Derek worried that it would give out at any moment.

Stiles walked up to Jackson, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. Jackson swallowed several times, his entire form trembling. Derek stayed as far as possible from him, not wanting him to feel crowded. He knew that Allison had visited several times a week, making sure that Isaac was nowhere near the house. She and Stiles seemed to be a soothing influence on Jackson, but for Derek it would take far longer.

“Can I…Can I talk to him alone, please?” Jackson whispered, voice breaking.

“How alone?” Stiles asked, taking hold of Jackson’s hand.

Jackson’s head ducked down lower. “Could you…go to…your room?”

“Of course. Just…howl if you need me?”

Jackson gave a slight nod and Stiles left the kitchen. Derek raised his eyes to the ceiling, not wanting Jackson to feel pressured into talking. He had to wonder why Jackson had picked him as the first werewolf to talk to, as he assumed Isaac’s puppy eyes would make him feel more comfortable.

Derek leveled his gaze when he smelt the tears. He saw two drop from Jackson’s eyes and fought to keep his emotions under control. Jackson mumbled something that not even Derek’s hearing could pick up. He didn’t want to ask Jackson to repeat it, but he had to. He needed to know.

“I’m sorry, Jackson. I didn’t hear that,” he said quietly, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible.

Jackson swallowed and more tears fell. “I’m sorry,” he croaked and covered his face with his hands. “I’m sorry I was weak.”

Derek yearned to stride forward and hold him until the pain went away. He had hoped his first’s life would be better in England. Tilting his head up, Derek forced his own tears back. “You weren’t weak, Jackson.”

Jackson fell to his knees and Derek went over to him, removing his jacket and placing it around his shoulders. “I was.” He dropped his hands, his shoulder shaking with the silent sobs. “How can I ever look at you, again?”

“I’m going to touch your hand,” Derek said, slowly kneeling in front of Jackson. He reached out, placing his hand over Jackson’s, not surprised when he flinched and hesitantly pulled away, as though he was terrified Derek would react viciously. “You don’t have to look at me, Jackson. You don’t have to talk. You don’t have to feel, if you don’t want to.”

Jackson’s hands became fists. “I’m sorry. I tried not to feel, but I was too weak to do that, too.”

Derek winced at his words. He swallowed, trying to remove the lump from his throat. “You’re not weak,” he said softly and moved back, wanting to give Jackson some room.

“It hurt so much…every time. Every time they…” Jackson dropped his head further. “I’m so sorry.”

Derek closed his eyes, ignoring his own tears falling from his eyes. He inhaled shakily, trying to ignore the pain radiating from the small form in front of him. The one that was begging for his forgiveness for something that was never his fault. He had no idea if Jackson had told Stiles what happened and he could only pray Stiles never learned the full story.

“I know,” Derek whispered, his voice thick. He didn’t have the first idea on what to do, except get Jackson to a professional. But he also knew no professional would understand the pain and shame from being abused by an alpha, someone that was meant to protect and love. Though, from what Jackson had said, it was most of the pack that had abused him.

Jackson sat back, wiping his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be dumping this on you.”

Derek took hold of his hand, pulling it away from his face. Jackson stared at him, absolutely everything possible in his eyes. Fear, shame, guilt, self-loathing, worthlessness. Derek couldn’t believe he was seeing that in Jackson Whittemore.

He knew he shouldn’t, knew it was bad for Jackson, but he moved forward and wrapped his arms around his first beta. Forcing his heart to remain steady, Derek held Jackson, closing his eyes. As much as he wanted to fantasize about how he was going to murder that pack, Derek focused his energy on making Jackson feel better. He refused to let Jackson ever think of himself as worthless.

Jackson froze in his arms, only trembling for a few moments. Then next thing Derek knew, Jackson was gripping his shirt and screaming his pain and sorrow into his chest. The noise brought Stiles down, ready to attack Derek for hurting Jackson. He paused when Jackson’s emotions hit him, he squeezed his eyes shut and Derek understood. Stiles had no idea what happened.

Minutes rolled into hours and Derek refused to let up. With every bout of shame and pain, he tightened his arms around Jackson. He tried to remain steady, a pillar for Jackson to lean on, but his own pain at being ineffectual to protect Jackson kept seeping through.

Noah ran into the kitchen, gun drawn when he came home from work and heard Jackson’s screams. His eyes widened and he nodded, holstering his weapon and joining his son upstairs. He would be the only one that would know what happened to Jackson. Just like Derek, it would have taken one look. The sun went down and the moon rose and still Jackson screamed and cried and still Derek held him.

When it stopped abruptly, Derek pulled Jackson away and saw he had passed out. He took the unconscious werewolf upstairs and placed him on Stiles’ bed, going to the bathroom to dampen a washcloth. He went back to the bedroom and cleaned Jackson’s face. He hadn’t noticed the circles under his eyes and had to wonder when he last slept.

Stiles stood at his door and watched them. “What the fuck happened to him, Derek?”

Derek lowered his eyes. “You don’t want to know,” he said and glanced over his shoulder. “Trust me. Knowing will only make it worse.”

Stiles’ chin quivered as he approached the bed. “He’s barely slept in the last four months,” he explained, staring down at Jackson. “He would try to, but then an hour, _maybe_ two later, he would wake up screaming.” He glared down at the ground. “I tried to help him, but I didn’t know what to do. What could I do? There was so much pain and…and…”

Derek placed a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “You were there for him. And that’s what mattered more. He didn’t have to wake up alone. He didn’t have to struggle alone.”

“What happened to him, Derek? I know you know. I saw it in your eyes the day he came back.”

Derek shook his head. “If I told you, you would just feel sorry for him. He doesn’t need your pity, Stiles. He needs your strength and kindness.”

Stiles nodded and stopped pressing the matter. He sat on the bed, holding Jackson’s hand. They stayed in silence, until Stiles yelped and jumped up. Jackson’s eyes opened, glittering azure as his breathing became ragged. That was the one thing Derek knew he could never fix. It could take possibly years for Jackson to live with the memories.

“Jackson,” Derek said and moved to the edge of the bed, taking a clawed hand.

The moment the glowing blue eyes met his, Jackson’s wolf retreated and he quickly looked somewhere else. Jackson’s hand was limp in his own and he asked Stiles to get him a glass of water. Fear settled in Jackson and Derek removed his hand.

“I’m sorry,” Jackson whispered.

“I know,” Derek said and glanced over his shoulder when Stiles returned. “Drink something, Jackson. You lost a lot of fluid today.”

Jackson sat up and accepted the glass from Stiles. Derek looked at Jackson, seeing that he was wearing sweatpants and a sweatshirt. He shrank under Derek’s gaze and Derek quickly nailed his eyes to the bed, barely seeing Jackson pull the sleeves of the sweatshirt over his hands.

“Thank you for trusting me, Jackson,” Derek murmured. He fought back his pain as Jackson tried to make himself as small as possible. “I won’t tell anyone. I’ll come back when you’re ready to see me again. Okay?” Jackson didn’t move, except a flinch when Derek stood.

Stiles walked him back to his car, eyes downcast. “I don’t know how to help him,” he said and looked over his shoulder. “This feels bigger than just me and you.”

Derek realized he had forgotten his jacket, but decided Jackson could keep it for a familiar scent. “He trusts you because you’re human. Don’t break that trust for anyone. Not Isaac and definitely not Scott.”

“But Scott’s the alpha. Shouldn’t he know about this?”

“No,” Derek growled. “It took him four months just to see me and I’m a beta. It’ll take him much longer to see an alpha.”

“How do we fix him?”

Derek knew what Stiles meant, but his anger still spiked. “He’s not a broken toy, Stilinski,” he snapped. “Just treat him like you normally would. He needs to know that not much has changed around and he can trust us.”

Stiles nodded, too sadden to feal any fear from Derek. “I’ll try. Thanks for coming to see him.”

“He felt he was ready for it. Let me know if he wants to see me again.” Derek slipped into his car and started the engine. He glanced at the dark window of Stiles’ room and went back to the loft.

* * *

Derek frowned as his cell phone vibrated. He saw Stiles’ number flashing on the screen and answered it, keeping his flashlight on the shelf he was searching. “What?” he grumbled.

“I know you’re breaking and entering at the moment, but…” Stiles hesitated and Derek sighed. “Jackson’s missing. I went to the bathroom and when I came back, the window was open and he was gone. I checked our roof and he wasn’t there.”

Derek lowered his phone, staring at it. He hadn’t seen Jackson in over a month. “Does he sit on the roof often?”

“It’s become his favorite place recently. At first, I thought he was suicidal, but he would just stare at the sky.”

Derek nodded and turned from the shelf. “Tell Scott he can search the library. I think I know where he is.”

“Did you want me to come with you?”

Derek knew he should say yes, but he didn’t want to overcrowd Jackson. “I’ll call you if you’re needed.”

He hung up and made his way back to the window he had squeezed through. He closed the window behind him and got into his car, tearing away. He parked at an entrance to the woods and jogged through them, coming across the Hale house. As he expected, Jackson was sitting on a stable part of the busted roof, knees to his chest, staring up at the sky.

Derek went up to the porch and paused, seeing his jacket folded over the railing. He frowned and entered the house, making his way to the roof. Jackson felt the vibration of his foot touching the beam and he instantly slipped through a hole.

“Jackson,” Derek called, following after him. He frowned when he got down and Jackson was gone. It seemed Jackson had the practiced ease that Derek did when it came to disappearing from the roof. “Shit.”

Derek looked at his phone as the screen lit up. _He’s back._ He exhaled and closed his eyes. Jackson seemed to know all their movements, as he knew when to run and not come across another werewolf. His study into the occult would have to wait.

\--

It took Jackson eighteen days to return to the Hale house. Derek stayed away, not wanting Jackson to hear his heart or catch his scent. Derek camped out for the last eighteen days, waiting for Jackson. The returned beta froze at the base of the stoop and spun around, searching the darkness of the forest.

Under the light of the nearly full moon, Derek could see the circles. He could tell that Jackson was trying his hardest to cover as much of his body as possible. Slipping his hands into the pockets of his jacket, Derek jumped back a little and began walking. He didn’t need Jackson knowing he was being followed.

Just as he was out of the trees, he paused and looked up. Jackson had his eyes down, staring at the leaflitter underfoot. Derek tried to ignore hammering of Jackson’s frantic heart.

“Stiles said you’d taken to looking at the night sky,” he said quietly and Jackson turned his head, as though expecting some kind of taunt. “Is it the stars?”

Silence stretched between them and Derek tilted his head back, looking up at the sky. In that section, he could see the stars twinkling brightly. He also did it, just to prove to Jackson that he didn’t care if his throat was bared. He trusted his first not to take advantage of the situation.

“I used to stargaze with my sisters all the time,” Derek said softly and gave a mirthless chuckle. “Cora could never understand it. She couldn’t see the constellations.”

Derek inhaled deeply as the breeze brushed past them. Jackson was terrified, but he was also intrigued. He leveled his head and smiled at the beta, who likely wouldn’t see it. Jackson still had his eyes on the ground.

“Laura loved the stars,” Derek went on, his eyes softening as he thought about his sisters. “She loved that perch on the roof, too. Scared our mother half to death every time, but Laura claimed the view was better up there.”

Derek kept his face and scent neutral when Jackson looked at him, as though trying to find something in him. It lasted only a few seconds, before he dropped his eyes and walked away. Derek watched him go, head bowed and shoulders hunched.

Following from a safe distance, Derek trailed Jackson back to the Stilinski house. Jackson climbed up onto the roof and sat down, staring up at the sky. Derek watched as his eyes searched for something, something that likely couldn’t be found up there. If there was an answer found, Jackson didn’t like it as tears slowly fell from his eyes.

* * *

A month later, Derek was sitting on the roof of the Hale house. He stared up at the stars, making out the constellations he could remember. He smiled wryly, unable to believe that Jackson got him back into stargazing. He hadn’t done it since before the fire.

Derek was up there to clear his mind. He had seen Jackson that day, watched as he trembled and tried to talk, tried to explain what happened. Derek didn’t want to hear it, but felt a small spark of honor that Jackson trusted him. Jackson hadn’t been able to tell him anything, hadn’t been able to look at him or be near him, as though he could somehow taint those around him.

Stiles was getting Jackson to eat, trying to help him through the depression. The nightmares still woke him up and he would crawl onto the roof and stare at the stars until they vanished. It wasn’t a great leap, but Derek was just glad to know that Jackson was doing _something_.

Scott still tried to get answers from Stiles and Allison, knowing that Derek wouldn’t tell him. The other two had taken to not being around Scott when he got into that mood. Derek understood, he really did. Scott was the alpha and wanted to know why Jackson didn’t trust him.

Jackson had never been on good terms with Scott to begin with. They barely tolerated each other, before Jackson went to England. What did Scott expect to happen? That Jackson would return and would, somehow, bare his throat on day one? Even Derek had to wait two months, before Jackson even considered him the alpha.

Frowning, Derek wondered if that was why Jackson wanted to see him first. Perhaps, somehow, in his mind he still saw Derek as his alpha? Jackson would’ve felt him lose his status, but there would always be that bond between them. No bite was ever as powerful as the first. Maybe that was the only reason Jackson thought he could talk to Derek, despite not wanting to dump his problems on him.

Derek knew it would take time, but he wasn’t sure how patient he could be. He looked over his shoulder, straining his ears. He could have sworn he heard someone walking. Slipping off the roof, Derek moved through the house. He froze when he caught Jackson’s scent, following his nose towards the roof. He had just come from there.

Climbing up, Derek saw that Jackson had taken his perch. Raising his eyes, he got himself as comfortable as possible, keeping his distance. He noticed how tight Jackson’s shoulders were. He was ready to run, possibly jump from the roof if there was a sudden movement towards him.

“…was right,” Jackson whispered.

Derek blinked and focused his ears. “Who was?”

“Laura.”

\--

From that night on, Derek let Jackson have the perch. After patrol one night, he made his way up to the roof. As he expected, Jackson was up there, but he was asleep, laying precariously along the beam. Derek wanted to wake him and move him somewhere safer, but he just climbed up, getting close enough to catch him if he should fall. Jackson didn’t rouse or give any indication he was aware of another presence.

He slept through the last hours of the night, waking and glancing at Derek, before he pulled away. He sat on the precipice of the roof, which had Derek worried. He didn’t know what Jackson’s reflexes were like, if he still had those lightning actions that had given him the edge over the other betas of the Hale pack.

“Any nightmares?” Derek asked and Jackson shook his head. “Be careful going down,” he said as he stretched. “I think us climbing up is weakening the wood.”

As he turned to leave, he froze. “Derek,” Jackson breathed and Derek looked over his shoulder. “You know, don’t you?”

Derek lowered his eyes and turned again, wanting to give Jackson his undivided attention. “I suspected,” he said. “Was it the full three years?”

“Almost.”

“I’m sorry, Jackson.” Derek tried not to flinch as Jackson looked at him, confused and afraid, broken and trying to heal.

“It wasn’t your fault I was stupid, Derek,” Jackson said and dropped his gaze. He chuckled without humor. “The hunters that took them out left me alive. They saw the state of my body and figured I’d been punished enough for my blue eyes. Instead, I came here, thinking I could move on. Thinking I could face _you_ after what I did.”

Derek had no idea what he’d done to be held in his such esteem in Jackson’s eyes. That thought didn’t last long, as he tried to ignore his own breaking heart. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Jackson.”

“I didn’t question him, because he’s an alpha and you said I had to respect the alpha. So…I just blindly believed him, thinking he would be like you.” Jackson lowered his eyes. “Then Scott picked me up and all I could think was that he was an alpha and I was going into a room of betas and…and…”

Derek moved closer as Jackson began hyperventilating, pulling the boy to his chest. He ran a hand through Jackson’s hair, trying to calm him, trying to keep his heart steady.

“I just needed my alpha,” Jackson said through gasps. “But…he was gone.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Jackson,” Derek soothed, keeping his voice steady. “I’m here anytime you need me.”

Jackson shivered and dropped his head. “What do I tell Scott? What do I tell his pack?”

“Whatever you want, Jackson. You don’t have to tell the pack anything. And I know it’ll be rough, but Scott needs to know, so he can warn his pack if you join us for anything.”

The shivering increased and Derek tried to ignore the stench of fear. “I can’t. I can’t even tell you and I trust you.”

Derek slipped his jacket off and wrapped it around Jackson. “You don’t have to tell him alone. I can go with you, if you think it’ll help.”

The shivering slowly stopped and Jackson’s head fell more. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Derek ran his thumb along Jackson’s neck, following where the scars used to be. He knew that Jackson would eventually get better and might even find a spark of his old self. Until then, he would help him, however he could. He wouldn’t stop until Jackson smiled again. He wouldn’t stop until Jackson didn’t feel worthless. He knew it would happen. It would take a lot of time, but eventually he’d get the Jackson he loved back and then question why he ever wanted him back.

He’d bet his life on it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Hope y'all enjoyed it. If you did, leave a kudos or drop a comment.
> 
> HAPPY NEW YEAR!
> 
> Until the next one!
> 
> Peace.  
> Auska.


End file.
